Feeling the feels and telling it as it is

This is me. Purely and completely. Raw and unedited. Beautiful and perfect, because inperfection is also perfect. My thoughts are my own, I do not wish to convert you to anything. If you think what I have to say is rubbish, you are free to leave the site. If it moves you in any way, feel free to stay.

This is me. Purely and completely. Raw and unedited. Beautiful and perfect, because inperfection is also perfect. My thoughts are my own, I do not wish to convert you to anything. If you think what I have to say is rubbish, you are free to leave the site. If it moves you in any way, feel free to stay.

There is so much shame attached to disordered eating. So often I don’t want to go outside. I don’t want you to see me, I don’t want you to talk about me, to think about me, to comment on me. My way of dealing with the shame is talking about it, but all that does is getting in front of the conversation. The shame is still there. It’s big and ugly and it eats me up.

The shame is about loss of control, about not being able to stop myself from acting on my impulses. The shame is about not being able to keep up the image. About yo-yo-ing, about being all the things society looks down upon.